


got my own hell to raise

by mardia



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Academy Era, F/F, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-30
Updated: 2010-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-14 06:04:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mardia/pseuds/mardia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winona looks back at her, assessing, and then turns back to her drink, saying casually, "It's been a while, so you'll forgive me for being blunt, Cadet, but are you hitting on me?"</p><p>Nyota takes a little breath, but she's already come this far, it doesn't make much sense to stop now. "Trying to," she answers honestly. "How am I doing so far?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	got my own hell to raise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rubynye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/gifts).



The first time Nyota looks at her, she just sees a woman sitting at the bar, blond hair falling over her shoulders, listening to the music being performed on the stage.

The second time Nyota looks at the woman, she notices a little bit more—that the woman's quite a bit older than Nyota, that she's been nursing the same drink for a while. That she's resting her chin on her hand, and that her fingers are long and graceful.

That's she's quite attractive, and the way the dim light's shining on her blond hair only makes her look more so.

Nyota looks away, and blinks at her drink. She's only had a couple of Cardassian Sunrises, but they make the drinks very strong at this bar, maybe she's feeling it more than she thinks.

The third time Nyota looks, the woman's looking back at her, eyebrow raised, the corners of her mouth only slightly turned up as if she's silently asking, _Yes? Is there a reason you keep looking over at me?_

Nyota quickly turns back to her drink, her face hot, but a second later she regrets it. So she licks her lips, picks up her drink, and makes her way over to the bar.

The woman turns her head and watches her approach, but doesn't say anything as Nyota takes the seat next to her. Nyota swirls her straw in her drink for a moment, and then asks casually, "How do you like the music?"

The woman turns to glance at her, her blue eyes cool. "Not bad," she says. "The singer's a bit flat."

"And I thought I was the only one that was noticing," Nyota says, with a tiny smile.

The woman smiles back. "That's because half the people here are too drunk to notice." Her smile's warm and charming, setting off laugh lines around her eyes, and Nyota smiles back, offering her hand.

"I'm Nyota."

The woman hesitates for a moment, but then takes her hand and says, "I'm Winona." She doesn't give her last name, and Nyota doesn't either.

"Do you live in San Francisco?" It's a normal question, Nyota's not sure why it has the woman looking at her closely, and then smiling like Nyota's somehow said exactly the right thing.

"No, I'm here on leave," Winona explains. "Visiting friends and family."

"You're in Starfleet?" Winona nods in confirmation and then looks at her, surveying her from head to toe, and then laughing softly.

"Oh, don't tell me you're a cadet."

"I'm a graduate student," Nyota replies. "And yes, I'm enlisted in Starfleet." Winona's mouth quirks in another smile, and Nyota says, daring, "I'm not underage, if that's what you're worried about."

Winona laughs outright at this. "I didn't think you were." She looks Nyota over again, her gaze warm and more than a little speculative, and adds, "Hoping you weren't, at any rate."

Well, that's encouraging. Nyota shifts a bit closer in her seat, turning her body so she's facing Winona, looking at her head-on.

She doesn't do this, normally. But sometimes, every once in a while, Nyota likes to--not act out, but just let herself go a little bit. Go out on her own to a bar she doesn't normally frequent, have a few drinks, and, if she feels like it, find someone to take home for the night.

Winona looks back at her, assessing, and then turns back to her drink, saying casually, "It's been a while, so you'll forgive me for being blunt, Cadet, but are you hitting on me?"

Nyota takes a little breath, but she's already come this far, it doesn't make much sense to stop now. "Trying to," she answers honestly. "How am I doing so far?"

Winona looks her over again, her gaze lingering on Nyota's bare legs. "Not bad at all," she replies, and downs the rest of her drink in one go.

*

Later in the evening, during a lull in their very enjoyable conversation, Winona shifts closer to Nyota, her leg just barely brushing Nyota's. Her eyes are bright and glinting as she says, "So. I'd say your place or mine, except I'm fairly sure my guest quarters are a hell of a lot bigger and more comfortable than whatever dorm room you're set up in."

"You wouldn't be wrong there," Nyota admits. Her dorm room isn't bad, by Academy standards, but Gaila's sure to be home working on her big project for her xenochem class, and Nyota doesn't consider herself a prude, but she balks at having sex with anyone in front of witnesses.

"Shall we?" Winona asks, getting up from her seat.

Nyota stands up as well, and walks with Winona out of the bar. Winona doesn't do anything as obvious as put an arm around her waist, or rest a hand in the small of Nyota's back, and Nyota's glad of it--she's normally never been fond of those kind of obvious, possessive sort of gestures, at least not in public.

But, as they walk out, Winona's hand brushes against hers, and Nyota likes the feeling, likes the hot little spark that goes off at the feel of their skin touching.

"Wait," Nyota says as they get outside, the night air cool on Nyota's face, her bare legs. Winona turns around to look at her, raising an eyebrow, and Nyota takes a breath and steps in close, her hands curving around Winona's hips as she leans in and brushes her mouth against Winona's.

Winona immediately responds, her mouth sliding open, her hands moving to Nyota’s hair, deepening the kiss until Nyota’s pressing in closer, a needy sound escaping her mouth before she can think twice.

Winona’s the one to break the kiss, with a rueful, breathless sort of laugh, saying, “Okay, just for the record, I’m too mature and wise, or at least I’m supposed to be—to be engaging in any sort of lewd public displays.”

“We weren’t being lewd,” Nyota points out, breathless, and at that, Winona gives a chuckle and says, “Trust me, five more minutes and we would have been.”

Nyota can’t really argue the point. So they keep walking to the rented hovercar Winona parked nearby.

As they’re driving to the hotel, Winona starts tracing light patterns on Nyota’s leg, her fingers dancing along Nyota’s knee, the inside of her thigh.

“Now who’s being lewd,” Nyota asks, almost—but not quite—wishing that her voice isn’t so high and breathless.

Winona grins with one half of her mouth. “We’re not in public though, are we?”

“No,” Nyota agrees, her legs falling open just that much more. “We’re not.”

*

For Nyota, the night passes in a blur. When she thinks about it later—and she will, it’ll become a fond memory—she’ll remember the softness of Winona’s skin beneath hers, Winona’s easy laughter as she took Nyota apart with her hands and her mouth, until Nyota gives herself up, shameless, grinding down against three of Winona's fingers and finally coming with a high, keening noise she wouldn't have even recognized if it hadn’t come from her mouth.

At one point, she traces the long, ragged scar on Winona’s thigh, and in response to her questioning look, Winona explains, her voice distant, “Got that from a mission. Told the ship’s doctors not to regenerate the skin. Some things should leave a mark.”

Nyota nods at that, recognizing she’s not going to hear the rest of that story, and sets out to bring the crooked, amused smile back to Winona’s face, clear away some of the shadows away from her eyes.

She doesn’t do too badly at that, all things considered.

*

They make their goodbyes the next morning. It's easy and friendly--Nyota's got papers she needs to grade for the class she's TA'ing, and Winona has several appointments to get to, including a late lunch with her son. She hadn't offered too many details on that last part, and Nyota hadn't asked.

Instead they talk about other things—missions Winona's been on, worlds she's seen. Nyota soaks up the stories Winona's willing to share, listening not just to the stories, but to the way that Winona tells them, the enthusiasm that, as far as Nyota can tell, hasn't faded in nearly thirty years of service to Starfleet.

Finally they park in front of Nyota's dorm, and Winona turns to face her, smiling. She kisses Nyota on the mouth, softly, and says, "Thank you for...an excellent evening."

"Thank you," Nyota says back, softly, and then a spark of mischief hits her and she says with a smirk, "For doing that trick with your tongue."

Winona bursts out laughing. "Believe it or not, that's not the first time someone's thanked me for that."

"Oh, I believe it," Nyota says, which sets Winona off laughing again.

*

When Nyota gets back to her dorm room, Gaila's still awake and poring over three different PADDS, looking completely frazzled and distracted, but that doesn't stop Gaila from looking up, spotting her, and saying dramatically, "You totally had sex last night."

"Yeah," Nyota admits casually, tossing her jacket onto a chair. "I did."

Gaila looks shocked--whether it's at the fact that Nyota admitted it, at the fact that she actually did have sex, or that Nyota had sex on a night when Gaila was the one who did nothing but study. It's probably a combination of all three, frankly. "With who?"

Nyota sits back on her bed, unzipping her boots, and says casually, "Oh come on, Gaila, you know a lady never kisses and tells."

"So let me get this straight," Gaila says, her eyes widening in outrage. "I've been stuck here, working on nothing but schoolwork _all night_ —meanwhile you went out and _had sex_ , and now you're not even going to share the details?"

Nyota considers it, and says with a smile, "Yeah, I think that about covers it."

She's not entirely surprised to get a pillow thrown in her face. Gaila's always had excellent aim.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of a rare-pairing (understatement) particularly for me, but I've always sort of wanted to write it. Title comes from the song "Sleep To Dream" by Fiona Apple.


End file.
